


Where Did I Leave that Fire?

by Ragingbulldurham



Category: Jurassic World (2015)
Genre: AU, F/M, prompt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-26
Updated: 2015-07-04
Packaged: 2018-04-06 06:27:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4211559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ragingbulldurham/pseuds/Ragingbulldurham
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>There’s an asset out of containment. One that they created. In a test tube. And they have no idea what it’s even made of.<br/>Oh yeah, this was definitely not her day. </i>
</p><p>Based on the Tumblr prompt: AU: Raptor Handler!Claire and Corporate!Owen, pls</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A chill ran through me

**Author's Note:**

> I'm starting to migrate the prompts I answered on tumblr over here. Slowly but surely. This prompt was: 
> 
> AU: Raptor Handler!Claire and Corporate!Owen, pls 
> 
> The title is from Neko Case. Enjoy!

“Eyes up here!” Claire clicked and watched as all four raptors looked at up her. “Charlie! Charlie, don’t give me that shit, up here. Thata girl.” Claire snapped her fingers and then grinned. “And we’re moving!” She moved effortlessly along the catwalk above the enclosure, her attention never swaying from the four animals beneath her, their eyes trained on her.

She knew that Vic Hoskins was there, and yeah, she was putting on a show for him. Showing off. Her skills, the _raptor_ s’ skills. She wanted him to know that she could do the job, and do it fucking well.

Vic Hoskins was, of course, a real asshole. It gave her great pleasure to constantly prove him wrong. 

“Not bad for a girl,” those words had _actually_ come out of his mouth causing Claire’s hands to clench into fists.

He hadn’t wanted to hire her. He told her as much after she had been offered the job. As if her years in the navy meant nothing, when in fact it meant that she was well trained in handling bigger pains in the asses than Vic Hoskins. Who, _she might add_ , hadn’t spent any time in the military (she had a friend do some digging. Hoskins was hired as muscle and made his way up the corporate ladder at InGen, most likely by engaging in behavior that may or may not have always been above board. She knew better than to completely piss him off, but he was far from her favorite person).

Claire hated the days that Hoskins hung around the raptor enclosure, watching her, watching them, a shit-eating grin on his face as he plotted.

“I knew you could do it, hon,” Hoskins told her before he left that afternoon, his sweaty, beefy hand landing on her upper arm and giving it a squeeze, and Claire wasn’t sure what she was more offended by. His grating term of endearment, the fact that he thought he was allowed to _touch_ her, or the fact that he was so full of shit that it was amazing it didn’t come dribbling out of his mouth every time he spoke.

“What are we going to do about him?” Barry asked after Hoskins had gotten into his car and driven away. Claire blew out a breath, hard enough to make her sweaty bangs flutter, and then shook her head.

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “For now, we hold him off. Anyway we can.” She felt gritty and gross after having to deal with Hoskins, and she excused herself to go home and shower. Try to wash the grime and the feel of Hoskins’ hand on her off of her.

She had just gotten out of the shower, tugging on a pair of yoga pants and a plain t-shirt, pulling her wet hair back into a ponytail when she heard the sound of car tires on gravel.

 _Now what_? Claire sighed and opened her screen door just in time to see shiny dress shoes step out of the Mercedes. _Shit_. It just wasn’t her day. First Hoskins, now Owen Grady, showing up at her doorstep, all clean and crisp, suit and tie, and that was just about the _last thing_ she needed to deal with that the moment.

“What do they want now?” Claire asked bluntly, and Owen slid his sunglasses from his face and frowned slightly.

“Ms. Dearing,” Owen greeted. “How are you doing?” He shot her a disarming grin, and it made her feel things that she wasn’t completely comfortable with.

They had gone on one date, _once_ , and to say that it had gone unsuccessfully was an understatement.

He had asked her out on her fourth week working there, telling her that he generally tried not to date anyone who worked at the park, to avoid conflict, but maybe they could get dinner? And like an idiot, she had been excited. She even pulled out a sundress that her sister had sent in a package, straightened her hair, put makeup on. Owen had shown up late, apologizing for a meeting that had run late, and Claire had taken a deep breath and told herself that he was busy and that he couldn’t help that a meeting had gone on too long, but when he told her that he was going to have to excuse himself to take a conference call, she had balled up her napkin and tossed it on the table, storming out of the restaurant.

They hadn’t ever spoken about that failed date again, and Claire was able to acknowledge that she might have been a tad too quick to rush out of there. She had been irritated about him being late (she was almost never late for anything. Years of being in the service had taught her to run a tight ship and follow an itinerary whenever possible), and let that irritation multiply throughout the evening. She knew that she had to own part of that date being a total disaster. Her way of dealing with it was simple: she just avoided him whenever possible.

“You can call me Claire,” she offered, and she could be wrong, but she thought she saw the hint of a smile tugging at his lips.

“Oh?” It was a damn smile, dancing at the corners of his mouth, and she couldn’t decide if she was irritated or turned on. “We could use your help with a new attraction.” And the smile was full blown now, and damn it if turned on didn’t win out. She tamped it down, and agreed to drive back with him to the park.

He loosened his tie around his neck when they climbed back in the car, and cranked up the air conditioning.

“It’s Central America,” Claire spoke up. “It’s probably time you lost the tie. Even Mr. Masrani doesn’t bother with a tie.”

“I like to look professional,” he shot back.

“Right,” she turned her attention out the window at the jungle speeding past, and it was her turn to smirk. “Professional and overheated.”

He ignored the dig, pulling up to a paddock and turning the car off.  She climbed out behind him, following him up the stairs, and into the viewing area, listening to him rattle off facts about the new asset, pretending that it was fine that they just went ahead and created a new dinosaur. That this was about numbers on a spreadsheet, black and white, and not a huge fucking mistake. Not them messing with something they had no idea what they were doing.

“You’re not that stupid,” she muttered, when all the screens flashed that there was no thermal reading in the enclosure. She walked to the other side of the room, her heart sinking when she spotted the scratch marks on the wall. “Were those always there?” Owen spins around on the heel of his shoes, and panic is clearly written on his face.

“I can check, from the control room,” Owen insisted, already pulling out his phone and striding towards the door. “There’s a tracker, we’ll find it.” It was the first time that Claire saw Owen looking anything other than totally put together, totally calm and collected, and it doesn’t do anything to help her racing heart.

There’s an asset out of containment. One that they created. In a test tube. And they have no idea what it’s even made of.

Oh yeah, this was definitely not her day.


	2. And I grabbed on tight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The response for this has been overwhelming, so I am humbled and overwhelmed, and I hope this chapter lives up to expectations. Thanks for reading!

Claire ran her fingertips along the scratches on the wall, and glanced up. 

Could this thing have  _climbed_ out?  _What the hell did they make this thing out of?_

The radio crackled to life and Claire looked over the security guard as he tried to make out through broken words what was happening. 

“It's in there with you!” _Oh, shit_. Claire felt the ground rumble beneath her feet and she felt a kind of terrified she had never felt before, and she willed her feet to move. 

Her boots crunched along the ground as she sprinted through the paddock, not slowing even when she heard a scream ( _don't look back, don't look back, don't look back)_ and a crunch (a sound that she wasn't going to forget any time soon). The door was closing in front of her, and she pushed her legs harder, slipping through just as the Indominus Rex crashed through behind her, sliding under a Jeep and trying to catch her breath. 

_Think, Claire, think_ . What had Owen said when he was first showing her the enclosure? Was it like the t-rex and was attracted to movement? Was it like the raptors (and if that was the case,  _Jesus_ , they were fucked)? She pulled a knife out of her pocket and sliced the gas line above her, hoping that the pungent smell of the gasoline would mask her own scent.

She glanced over to see the other guard huddling in front of another truck, his body trembling, a cross in his hands. She knew it was over for him before he did, and she turned her face away, biting down on her lip to keep from crying out as the earth shook when the I-Rex moved closer to the Jeep she was hiding under. 

Claire squeezed her eyes shut and held her breath until the ground stopped rumbling as the Indominus made its way farther from her and closer to the park. 

She crawled back out and climbed to shaky legs, the taste of bitter adrenaline in her mouth. She gave herself exactly forty two seconds to calm herself down, forty two seconds to freak the fuck out, and then squared her shoulders and sprinted back towards the paddock to find either a phone or a set of keys. 

The keys she found first, and she wasted no time in sprinting back towards the Jeep, and getting the hell out of there. 

* * *

It was too soon for “I told you so's.” 

Claire recognized that as soon as she got herself kicked out of the control room. Owen Grady had looked about as flustered as she had ever seen him (although his suit was still immaculate, not a speck of dirt on his polished shoes, and she wondered how in the hell he continued to wear a jacket in the stifling Central American heat). 

As she was being escorted out by security, her heart thudded to a stop. 

Zach and Gray were here,  _at the park,_ sent by her sister to hang out with their cool aunt while she and her husband dismantled their marriage. 

It was shitty timing, because Hoskins was coming in that day, so her carefully made plans of hanging out with them and showing them what she did fell apart, and she had managed to score the two boys VIP wristbands and sent them off for the day, promising to meet them at the latest by five at her bungalow for dinner. 

“Wait,” she spun around, twisting out of the security guard's grip. “Wait, Owen!” 

* * *

“How old are they?” Owen asked as they tore out of the parking lot. 

“16 and 11,” she answered promptly, and she thought about how excited Gray had been when she picked them up from the dock that morning, practically buzzing out of his skin as she loaded them into a borrowed truck (she didn't think all three would fit on the bike that she generally used to get around). 

“We get to stay _outside_ the park?” Gray had exclaimed as she made her way back dirt roads towards her bungalow. Claire had ruffled his hair, and matched his grin. 

“Sure do, kiddo.” And they had been disappointed that she had to work for the day, but had taken it in stride, as she promised up and down to be done at a reasonable hour and take them to the raptor paddock at the end of the day. 

Owen had tracked the gyrosphere for Claire, and her breath caught in her throat when she realized they had gone rogue (and of  _course_ they had. They were related to her, for God's sake. Zach was more like her than she thought her sister preferred. Going off roading was most definitely his idea, and normally Claire would be secretly proud, but  _normally_ there wasn't a hybrid, unpredictable, and uncontrollable asset out of containment). 

“I'm going to find them,” Claire had announced, and Owen had surprised her by asking if he could come along.

“I need to see what kind of damage this thing is doing,” he had said. She knew that was only partly true, and partly because Owen needed to feel useful, and standing in the control room listening to Masrani make questionable decisions wasn't the way to do that. 

“Okay, but don't slow me down,” Claire held out her hands for his car keys, which he reluctantly handed over. “Give me your keys. You drive like an old man.” Owen had sputtered, but handed over the keys, climbing into the passenger seat wordlessly. 

“I didn't know your nephews were staying here,” Owen said, holding onto the car door handle as Claire sped along the bumpy roads. 

“My sister is going through a divorce,” Claire answered. “They're not supposed to know about it, but they're smart kids, so I'm sure they do anyway. She sent them to me so they could get away from all the unfolding drama.”

“You see them often?” Owen asked.

“When I can,” Claire shrugged. “They've been out here a couple of times. I try to make it home to Wisconsin for at least every other Christmas.” She bit her lip. “They're good kids.”

“I'm sure they're okay,” Owen said softly. “We'll find them.” 

 

* * *

What they found was a crushed gyrosphere and Zach's broken phone. 

“Oh, oh no,” Claire felt both fear and anger wash over her, before Owen's hand on her arm stopped her. 

“I think they might have made it out,” he pointed to a pair of footprints in the mud and she let out a shaky breath. She sprinted towards where the footprints lead, only partially surprised when Owen was three steps behind her. 

“They must have jumped,” Claire breathed, feeling a flush of pride for her quick thinking nephews. 

“Brave kids,” Owen murmured. 

“I'm going to try to follow their trail,” Claire said, “You should call and get someone to pick you back up.” 

“I'm coming with you,” Owen insisted, and Claire raised an eyebrow, looking him up and down. 

“You're in a suit and tie. In the jungle.” Owen shrugged off his jacket, crumpling it and throwing it to the ground, loosening his tie and rolling up his sleeves. Claire just blinked at him. “I don't know what that means.”

“It means I'm coming with you,” Owen said. “Listen, I can't do anything back there. I'm just in the way. Let me help find your nephews. It's the least I can do.” 

There were resources that Owen could use that Claire couldn't, privileges that he had that she didn't, and she thought it over for a moment before nodding. 

“Okay,” she agreed. “Let's go.” 


End file.
